


Figaro Drabbles

by lemonsandstrawberries



Series: Figaro series [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Superfamily, Superfamily (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:47:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21551518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsandstrawberries/pseuds/lemonsandstrawberries
Summary: a collection of Figaro drabbles, meaning, Tony and Steve adopting a cat into their lives and naming him Figaro. drabbles are not connected to each other and can happen during different times and feature different pairings in addition to Stony, will add more tags as I add more drabbles. drabbles can be already found on my tumblr and dA, but I am gonna post them here too, anway. hope you will like them!
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Figaro series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550938
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

Steve's hands were shaking and he spilled water all over the counter and watched it drip down to the floor. One deep breath later, he steadied his hands and tried again, this time a nice amount of water from the kettle landing in the bottle. A scoop of powder then shake vigorously. But first, close the bottle with a cap. That was very important, as he once had made that mistake and shook the bottle without closing it. Shake, shake, shake and mix, mix, mix. 

Looking back at his life, Steve would say that being in the army and a soldier was the easy part. He had orders, people to protect, he followed the orders, he saved people. Simple. Maybe sometimes it was brutal, some decisions more painful, but the goal was always clear.

This situation was more complicated. What was worse, there was no simple solution. No amount of training could prepare him for this.

He was stuck between two crying people, absolutely not knowing what to do. What was worse, those were the last two people he wanted to see upset. 

"Oh my God, Pete, come on, it is okay, it is okay, little bee," Tony repeated frantically, pacing around the baby room, holding his and Steve's almost one-year-old son in his arm. Peter, red-faced and screaming, kept crying bloody murder, big tears rolling down his cute, chubby cheeks. For some reason, whenever Tony heard Peter crying, he immediately started to tear up too, and Tony looked like an absolute mess - he was ruffled from sleep that had been brutally interrupted by the piercing cries, eyes circled and wet and shiny and a frantic, panicked look in them.

"I am here, I am here!" Steve barreled into the baby room, almost tripping over some toys laying on the floor. Still better than stepping barefoot on one of the colorful, wooden blocks, Peter liked to toss into a basket and then dump everything out. He skidded to his weeping husband and handed Tony the bottle.

"Thanks," Tony whimpered out, shaking the bottle for good measure and putting close to Peter's mouth hoping the boy would start to suck. Please suck. Peter's small lips found the bottle and locked on the teat. Some soothing, gulping sounds. Silence. 

"Oh God," Tony slumped in the armchair, holding Peter close and letting him eat. "Yay," he cheered quietly, sounding exhausted. "Good boy," Tony praised, looking at Peter with adoration, tears drying on his cheeks. 

Steve let out a long, tired breath, enjoying the silence. Parenthood was hard, but the sight of Tony and his son together was the most beautiful reward. It was all worth for such sweet moments.

Sweet moment ending, when half way the bottle, Peter wriggled his mouth away and started to cry again.

"What - whyyy," Tony didn't understand, tears building up back in his eyes. "Hey, hey, look, there is still food," he tried to put the teat back into the boy's mouth, but Peter just looked more distressed and kept arching away. 

"Maybe his diaper is full?" Steve tried to help. Tony turned Peter around in his arms and did something most of parents preferred to avoid - he smelled the diaper. Just one of the many charming things almost every parent did but, but didn't brag about - like eating food that fell out of your baby's mouth and was half-chewed. Still, the sniff test was the quickest way to tell.

"Negative!" Tony called back, and Peter kicked his legs with another ear drums ripping scream, not liking this position.

"Heeey, shhhhh, come to daddy," Steve rushed forward, taking the boy from Tony and bouncing in his arms. Fed, diaper clean. Steve checked for fever, but except the heated cheeks from crying, their baby looked perfectly healthy. Peter sniffled some more, wailing in Steve's arms for a change, clearly unhappy. "Maybe he's sleepy," Steve said, feeling that his mind was slowing down because of the late hour.

Tony laughed wetly and almost hysterically. They all were. It just seemed like one of those nights that crying happened for very little reason.

"Shhh, you want to go back to bed? Let's try. There you go."

Crying dimming into sniffling. Sniffling continued and it appeared it would stop entirely and Tony looked with wide eyes in the direction of Steve leaning over the crib and cooing to Peter. Fed, clean diaper, sleep. Maybe it was the answer.

"WAAAH!"

Steve straightened up with a pained grimace on his face, when Peter started his crying concert again, safely nestled in his crib, but bothered for some reason. Tony curled in himself and buried face in his hands out of desperation. It seemed no one would get any sleep in this house tonight.

Really, no one.

A sound of soft paws on the carpet, made Tony look through his fingers. Figaro, with his tail straight up, marched into the baby room, going to the source of the commotion, which was Peter. Even from the distance, Tony could see that their cat was angry.

"Steve, catch him!" Tony called, watching Figaro getting ready to jump into the crib. As for such a huge cat, Figaro was very gracious and easily jumped between Steve's hands, softly landing on the mattress next to screaming Peter. At first, Peter didn't notice the cat, but then Peter's brown, wet eyes met with Figaro's vivid green ones, and the full-blown crying slowly dimmed down into whimpers once again. Figaro didn't move, just looked at the baby, having some silent conversation. Steve watched cautiously, ready to interfere at any moment. Figaro wasn't an aggressive cat, but who knew if he wouldn't suddenly lash out. Tony ran to the crib, standing next to Steve and watching the situation unfold with a rapidly beating heart. 

Suddenly, Peter took a lungful of air. Steve already panicked, knowing the drill - Peter would cry out, Figaro would get scared, angered, and sharp claws would meet with soft baby skin. Tony clutched to Steve's arm, fearing the same scenario to happen.

The lungful of air was a calming one, and Peter reached his hands to Figaro, babbling softly. There were still some wet traces of tears on his face, but no new ones building up. And then, with all eight teeth Peter had, he smiled, all while looking at the cat.

Figaro's ears twitched and he swooped his tail, Peter's bright eyes immediately following the movement and finding it amusing, chubby fingers trying to reach and touch the tail. Figaro didn't allow that, and walked a semi-circle around Peter's head and curled in the corner of the crib, forming a fluffy donut and closed his eyes. Peter babbled some more, turning on his tummy to better see Figaro. Somehow, the presence of the purring cat soothed him, and soon, Peter leaned his head down and closed eyes to sleep. 

Tony and Steve exchanged surprised looks, before smiling at each other in relief. Thanks to Figaro, the rest of the night would be calm.

"Get some sleep," Steve whispered, not wanting to disturb the sleepy silence and kissing Tony's forehead. "I will look after them."

Tony nodded, barely standing from being so tired and not arguing with this one. He sent a last, love-filled look directed at their son and cat, and silently walked out of the bedroom. Steve took a blanket from the back of the armchair and sat down, covering himself, staying just in case, which in the morning turned out the be unnecessary as Figaro was wonderfully patient and Peter was happy to wake up next to his furry friend and there was no usual morning fuss happening.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve considered himself a calm person. Not many things were able to make him mad.

This was.

Really.

"I can't believe, you sold our cat," Steve said in a heavy voice, eyebrows drew together and jaws clenched angrily. This wasn't right.

"I didn't sell anyone," Tony replied lightly, not seeing the whole drama of the situation.

Steve scoffed, turning his face away, to not look at his traitor boyfriend. 

When Tony had called Steve to the living room, saying that he has a surprise, Steve expected everything, but not this. And here they where, Tony presenting proudly on himself a whole line of clothes, including a racer jacket, t-shirt, cap, and sweatpants, all embellished with a pointy print, the same one that was used on all of their Avenger's equipment, spelling ' _Figaro, the First Cat Avenger_ ' and on the t-shirt was a cartoon print of Figaro, wearing Captain America's headpiece. 

Steve would laugh at that if it wasn't all commercial and meant for sale on a global scale.

It was a matter of time until people would learn that they had a cat, and one time, during a walk, someone snapped a photo, of Tony and Figaro and the press went wild. And Tony, being the businessman he was, already saw an opportunity in the whole commotion. 

"I don't know why you are so upset about this, Steve," Tony said lightly, digging in the box he brought with himself, having prototypes of everything he brought. "And look, Figaro doesn't mind!"

Steve looked back, and scoffed, at Figaro who stood on his hind paws, and was curiously glancing inside the box.

"I would say he even likes," Tony smiled, petting cat's fluffy head, who became very interested in the cat-Hulk plushie. 

"He only wants to get to the box!" Steve snapped, knowing that it was how cat minds worked - you see a box, you climb in the box. 

"Nonsense, he likes the attention. Our cat diva," Tony brushed Steve off. Steve only growled, knowing that there were two divas in the room. "And tell me that this isn't the cutest thing you have ever seen!" he turned to Steve with a smile, holding two pretty plush toys of Figaro, one in Captain America gear, the other one in Iron Man suit.

Steve's eyes turned a bit soft at the sight. Yeah, it was cute. And the plushies were really well made and detailed, not like some plushies that didn't resemble anything.

"It's all hand made," Tony said proudly, showing Steve that with a bit of skill, you could take off the suits, and after some brushing with palm, the fur on the plushie cat was standing all fluffy and tall, just like on real Figaro. Figaro watched curiously the whole process and pawed at Tony's wrist, demanding to be showed the thing, and nosed at the fake cat playfully.

Steve started to crumble. Still, he didn't like that Tony made such a decision without him. "How long will all this be in sale?" he asked in a tired voice, pointing to the box.

"Not long," Tony grinned, "just a couple of months."

Steve nodded with relief. He could live with that.

"If they want to renew, they have to buy the license again and pay for it," Tony added.

With a growl, Steve sunk into the couch, looking pleadingly at the ceiling, as if asking for someone to end this all. 

A month after this event, Steve finally saw the first commercial. It started like all Avengers related commercial, with Hulk first busting the wall, then the rest of the Avengers following, until they all were gone, and then, after it was clear, a cartoon Figaro jumped out through the wall, and trotted to the camera, looking into it, and pawing at the picture. Steve smiled. It was cute. And then they showed the plushies, all in different Avengers suits, and school supplies, and an abundance of colorful t-shirts, as not all clothes items made it to the production line, or maybe Tony was saving them for later. A sign " _Figaro, the First Cat Avenger!_ " flashed on the screen, read in a strong voice, with listening to the shops where the toys were available. Steve narrowed his eyes, spotting something written on the bottom of the screen. " _50% of income from the 'Figaro the First Cat Avenger' line will be donated to Pet Shelters_."

Steve's mouth opened and he kept looking at the screen, long after the commercial was gone. He really felt proud of Tony. And he felt stupid, for crossing out this idea so quickly. He should had known that Tony had some sort of plan.

"Meow!"

Ah, the star of the commercial had shown.

"Hey Fig," Steve smiled, making room for Figaro, who tried to get to Steve's lap. Steve picked him up and lifted high in the air, looking at him. "So, you're an Avenger now, huh?" he asked, smiling at the new collar the cat had, blue, with a white print of ' _Figaro, the First Cat Avenger_ '.

Figaro blinked. " _Seems so._ "

"I should be mad, that was once my title. Without the cat part," Steve smirked.

" _Don't be a sour patch_ ," Figaro just gazed down on his human, stretched out in all his enormous length. Steve smiled wider and cuddled the cat close, and went back to watching TV, planning to bake a chocolate fudge cake for Tony later on.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figaro follows Tony around, but there are some moments Tony prefers to be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every cat owner had experienced that, right?

This wasn't right. It was illegal. Outrageous. The biggest offense ever.

A closed door. His biggest enemy.

"Meeeow!"

Scratch, scratch, scratch. 

"Fig! Stop it!"

No. Not until he would get to the other side, and Figaro scratched and meowed with double force. He won't lose this battle.

"FIG! Steve, do something!"

Steve, who was laying in bed, kinda dying from silent laughter, had to compose himself before speaking. Everyone deserved some privacy and when Tony had walked minutes earlier into their en suite bathroom, Figaro, who seemed deep asleep in the bed, woke up as soon as the door closed and began a meowing and scratching concert under the door, demanding to be let in. It was cute how Fig always wanted to be close to Tony, but sometimes it was bothersome. Like now, when Tony couldn't even do his business in peace. 

"What do you want me to do?!" Steve called back, hoping that his voice was steady and not giving away how much he was enjoying the situation.

"I don't know, tell him to go back to bed! And stop laughing!"

Uh oh. Seemed that he wasn't as good at masking his laughter as he thought he was. Steve sighed, and sat up on the bed, invitingly patting the covers. "Hey, Fig! Figaro! Come here!" he tried to get his and Tony's cat's attention but without any results. Figures, Figaro was their cat, but he bonded strongly with Tony. Steve was more of a food dispenser, litter cleaner, and occasional heater. He had no authority when it came to Figaro and his moods. "Figgy, daddy will be out soon! Tony, tell him you will be out soon!"

"Daddy will be out soon!" Tony repeated without a second of hesitation. Figaro sat his fluffy butt down under the door and when it seemed like a success, he meowed deeper and longer and resumed scratching.

"STEVE!"

With a huff, Steve sat up, not understanding how he got involved in this mess. Obviously, until Tony won't come out, Figaro won't calm down, and if Figaro won't calm down, Steve won't get any sleep. There was only one logical solution. 

"Hm?" Tony looked up, hearing the door creak open, and watching a fluffy bullet running towards him, "what the - ow, ow, Fig!" he protested when thirty pounds of a cat jumped into his hands, clawing at his bare thighs. "STEVE!"

"What again?" Steve yelled from the other side of the door, getting impatient. 

"This wasn't what I meant by you doing something!" Tony yelled back, trying to contain purring Figaro in his arms. 

"Oh, you want me to do more?" Steve asked, and somehow Tony didn't like the tone of his husband's voice. The bathroom door opened wider, and Steve stood in it, holding his phone up and snapping a photo.

"THE HELL, STEVE!" Tony shrieked out, not able to cover himself or even stand up, not when Figaro was weighing him down.

"That's going to the Avengers group chat!" Steve called, grinning in an evil way, and walking out, already typing on the phone. "And maybe to instagram," he said, and Tony shrieked in protest. "Oh, only to the stories, it will disappear after twenty-four hours!"

Tony groaned and hid his face into Figaro's happily purring form. To show love and support, Figaro brushed his face against Tony's forehead, gently head butting him. "Thanks, buddy," Tony said, imagining that the photo of Iron Man, sitting on a can, with pajama bottoms around his ankles and a lap full of a fluffy cat would become an instant Internet hit. Lucky for him, Steve decided to save him shame and kept the photo private, and by private, he meant himself and the Avengers group chat.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony always prided himself on being Figaro's favorite and then everything changed, once that thing appeared in their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 17th February was an National Cat Day in my country, so I decided to write a fic! aand then fell asleep and didn't post it on time... so Happy One Day after National Cat Day!

Steve didn't know a lot about love. He never really experienced it, rejected by most of the girls back in the times before he got the serum, while his time with Peggy, the girl he truly felt close to, was cut short and the blossoming feeling never developed. After waking up in the 21st century, Steve didn't expect to ever fit in, not even mentioning finding love, but a miracle happened and he and Tony found each other. That, that Steve could call love. That warm, soothing feeling whenever he looked at Tony, was close to him, and listened to his voice. Their love was growing and filling his heart and soul with something he never experienced before. Steve wouldn't call himself an expert on love, but he knew that what he was feeling towards Tony, that was true love. Pure and passionate and everlasting. 

Yet, it all faded in the face of the feeling he was witnessing in the current moment. That was the kind of love that was hard to describe but obvious to everyone and so good. Steve loved Tony and was loved back, but this was an entirely different story.

"Outrageous," Tony scoffed, his eyes fixed at the same point as Steve's. Steve didn't say anything, just kept smiling, his arm wrapped around his sulking husband as they sat together on the couch in the living room, basking in the love-filled glow. 

"Seriously, I have no words," Tony continued, and Steve continued to not talk, just observing and listening, somehow secretly enjoying Tony's ramble and curious how far it would go.

"I don't know how you can be so calm, Steve! I have never been so insulted in my life!"

Oh, insulted. That was a big word for the overblown offense of Figaro, their shared cat, playing with an old scrunchie. As their only child, Figaro was spoiled as a cat could be, eating the best selection of cat food, having cat towers and scratching posts in every room, and more toys a single cat could need, starting from the simplest stuffed toy mice to the fancy automatic laser lights. Yet, all that cornucopia of cat toys was no match for the stretched-out, yellow scrunchie that one day had slipped out from Thor's pocket and Figaro snatched, claiming for himself and dubbing the best thing ever. Since then, Figaro could be seen wildly pawing at the scrunchie, chasing it all over the place and when he got tired, he flopped down on the floor, the scrunchie near his face, and looked adoringly at it, clearly in love. No matter what Tony did, what he offered, he couldn't convince Figaro to play with anything else, and the only playtime he got with his cat, was when he begrudgingly tossed the yellow nightmare and Figaro kept bringing it to him, playing their version of fetch. The trend did catch on, and soon Natasha donated some of her hair ties and even Bucky added a one or two, and the collection kept growing, much to Figaro's delight and Tony's dismay, but the yellow scrunchie was the unquestionable winner and Figaro's true love. Steve wasn't quite sure if the true offense didn't lay deeper, rooted in the fact that Figaro chose Thor's belonging over many toys Tony had bought. 

"What?" Tony suddenly asked, and Steve noticed that Figaro was sitting at the bottom of the couch, his tail doing some twitchy movements. Sometimes it did happen, that during his playtime, Figaro tossed the scrunchie somewhere and needed assistance in getting it out, which was the current case. "You flung it under the couch, get it out yourself," Tony told his cat, sounding offended. 

"Aw, don't be like that," Steve cooed, not liking Tony being mean for such a petty reason. "Here, Fig," he said and stood up, walking behind the couch, keen on helping their cat, Figaro following.

"Hmph," Tony crossed his arms, thinking that, yeah, maybe, he took it a bit too far. The scrunchie love would end one day, hopefully, and then he would get his cat back from under the vixen's spell. And there was no need to take it out on his fluffy son, not when Figaro was so overjoyed. Before Tony could join in the scrunchie search, there was a movement behind his back and suddenly the floor was further away and the ceiling was a lot closer.

"WHAT THE HELL!" Tony yelped, unsure what to hold to, and clutched to the armrest, curling feet to himself. 

"Fig, look!"

Tony didn't move but saw Figaro zooming across the room, chasing the free scrunchie, happy with getting his toy back. Tony wasn't that happy.

"Huh, so we have a lot of random stuff under the couch..." Steve said from underneath, holding the couch, and Tony, over his head without any effort.

"Sometimes I forget how freakishly strong you are..." Tony muttered angrily to himself, not directing the complaint to his husband, but Steve laughed anyway still hearing it because of his super-soldier hearing. Of course. "Put me down!"

"Hmm."

"Steve!"

"I'm thinking about it."

"This isn't funny, Steve!"

Steve, holding the couch and grinning, had a very different opinion.

"I can feel you smirking, if you don't put me down right now, you will be sleeping on this damn couch for the rest of the month!"

"Well, in that case, I might as well carry it to our bedroom," Steve said, turning around and taking the first step, deeply enjoying the outraged screech his husband made. It was pretty simple - Figaro had his scrunchie to play with and Steve had his Tony. And like all games, this one also had to come to an end, and Tony was put down and the couch got back in its place. And if Tony still wanted to kick Steve out of the bedroom for his mischief, convincing him not to do so, was another story.


End file.
